Stance
by Alpha 01
Summary: A study in the Science of a good TF fic. Some plot too, I assure you. Please be sure to read the Hefty foreward, or you may not understand where I am coming from


**Foreword: **_In all my time as a Fanfiction author and reader, I have not seen more than a few decent TF pieces written. Most are so far-fetched and unbelievable, that it is truly hard to actually get into the story. Some authors, such as "TurtlesandMonkeys," "Lord Nalthran," "Joneseycat" and a few others are adept at spinning a compelling tale, the fictional portion of such stories going above and beyond what you would expect to find even in a published novel. Other authors, such as "Ryuutheweredragon" and "FoxyJosh" are skilled in explaining how exactly the story is even possible. Unfortunately, it is truly rare to see any one story that combines the two. _

_Now I do not pretend to be an expert, my writing skills are proficient, but nowhere near the standard level required to publish a novel. For those of you who do know me, and have read my past work, do not worry. During my brief break from authoring, I have been studying what exactly it is that makes a TF fiction enjoyable. Unfortunately, I am still of mixed opinions, as each reader has his or her own preferences. I did not come away entirely empty-handed, however, I started to formulate a theory on the science of TF fiction. I also have theories on the Suspension of Disbelief and on the true science of genetics, but more on that later. _

_Now as long-standing veterans may know, there are several well-worn ruts that many TF authors get into. They are as follows:_

_The classic "Mary-Sue Finds Cool Trinket of Unimaginable power." The title says it all. Said and done, this genre was interesting at first, but after reading better, newer fictions, it just cannot hold a candle to more original work. Sorry, Mary._

_The "Evil Syndicate Kidnaps and Injects Victims Against Their Will." A longstanding classic. The scary thing is, in this day and age, stuff like this could come to pass. Already, illegal stem and egg cell donations are taking place below the radar. But just because it could happen, does not mean that it SHOULD. Wide scale kidnappings of the type found in many stories simply could not go on for long until some low-ranking official notices a gap in the records. The matter would be transferred to the police, and then to the government, and would likely end in a twelve hour stand-off between SWAT and the organization before everyone is released. It does make for a gripping climax though, perhaps someone should write a piece where the aforementioned situation comes to pass._

_Then, there is the "Curse" thing. This genre has grown widely popular, and is the most commonly used plot device aside from technical means. It has been done in many ways, the ever-popular Nine-tailed fox, tiny pink cats of unimaginable power, and ancient relics from long forgotten civilizations. These can actually make for good reads depending on the author. A fan of this kind of thing myself, I would not mind seeing a few more of these type floating around on . _

_Then, there are the "Death and Rebirth" stories. So far, I have only seen one truly good one, Sergeman's "A Little Night Music." I believe it paved the way for this new craze that is slowly taking over the forums. I have actually very little to say on the matter, other than this: It reads a little like a religion, and that no one really knows what suicide feels like. It is still a new franchise, and we are all waiting for someone to do something great._

_And finally, the "Hybrid Army" plots. These are usually an absolute mess to read through, with young kids who have never seen war trying to emulate what they think it should feel like. Now before you brand me a hypocrite, I should probably make it known that I too was once enamored by these types of plots. I considered myself to be familiar with the soldier's way of life primarily from playing video games and reading books. Then, I met some live ones. Needless to say, I changed my perspective, and no longer attempt to write "war" stories._

_Now about the possibilities of an actual TF ever taking place. I did some heavy research on genetics, mutagens, and other mind and structure altering subjects. After putting it all together, I have come to the solid conclusion that one living thing can not become another without natural cause. The human body is entirely too complex to ever be altered in such a drastic way. Even the concept of evolution escapes me. But if everyone truly believed that, then what would be the point of writing TF stories? Many people love them, and are almost willing to forget physical limitations for a while. This is known as a Suspension of Disbelief. It is a common plot device used by movie directors and authors worldwide. It is basically when something truly impossible comes to pass, but seems real enough that it could be believable as long as too much thought is not put into the matter._

_Therefore, I think that it is high time someone tries to wed science with fiction, resulting in a piece that reads like life, but comes away leaving the reader satisfied. This may not be it, but I hope my attempt will at least inspire someone to write a great novel. Also, if you have ever written a TF fiction that does not fit into any of the above categories, then good for you! You have written an original story! Congratulations, you are more creative than 84% of authors here. PM me, and tell me where to find your story. I love reading forays into new territories. And for those of you who have written in the above categories, kudos to you for writing at all. It is authors like you who make this site enjoyable for everyone. If you have a good one, hit up FoxyJosh, he has a C2 just for stories like may just gain a lot of publicity that way. _

_Finally, about this story. It is about realism. Also, not every character will interact with the others, some might go through the entire story without meeting the other. Just saying…_

_Enjoy, _

_-Alpha _

**Stance- **Prologue

**02/04/09, 1900 Hours**

**Denver, Colorado. United States**

In the slums of northeast Denver, a dilapidated building sat amidst the sorry remains of what had once been a profitable and comfortable part of town. The decaying structures around it kept it company, and silence lorded over all. Once known as Main Street, the slum was now a haven for drug dealers, prostitution rings, and all manner of unsavory business. Most citizens did their level best to avoid the area completely. It was the place where good men died for unjust reasons.

The few unfortunates that simply could not afford to live elsewhere existed with a constant fear of assault. They had learned that being overly cautious was the only way to ensure some sense of safety. Their children ducked every time a car so much as backfired, and few ever ventured out alone.

It wasn't that the authorities did not know of the poor living conditions in what was unanimously referred to as the "dying town", but their presence just did not extend very deeply. Officers who ventured into the area had a tendency to come back bloodied or not at all. The area was split between several prominent gangs, and ruled by drug lords and other shady individuals. There was a massive underground weaponry market as well as freely available narcotics, provided one had the money. They could get away with a lot down there, as anything you did was officially off the records.

Somewhere, there was undoubtedly a man who held the true deed to this territory, but he had yet to surface, and probably never would. The man in charge of security in the area was widely known to be easily swayed by money, a corrupt official if ever there was one.

Things went on as they always had; drive-by shootings as common as overdoses and theft. The few honest citizens in the area were being slowly strangled out of their resources, as they were forced to pay more and more money for "protection" from different criminal factions. Many turned to drugs in their desperation, and soon were absorbed into the rest of the underworld. Needless to say, the town was indeed dying.

As bad as things might have seemed to the people who lived there, there were other things much worse than small-time gangs and rampaging drunks. The complete lack of surveillance made the area a haven for those who did not want to be found. And so it was that a small time terror group took up residence in an abandoned and derelict building.

They were not motivated by religion or anger against a corrupt government, no; they were simply after what other criminals in the small town sought: money and prestige. The ways that they went about acquiring these things were very different however. Calling themselves the "Deviant Storm", they were mostly ex-mercenaries and private defense contractors. Their main methods rested in the use of explosives and hit-and-run tactics. They were bold, to be sure, every hit expanding a little further out into the surrounding cityscape, until they became known amongst local law enforcement.

They raked in quite a profit, and their numbers ballooned with each successful "mission." Their reputation grew, and local police began to actively hunt down members. The problem was, even your uncle could be an average citizen during the daytime, and a rifle-wielding terrorist at night. The authorities simply lacked the manpower to do a home-by-home sweep, and thus, there were very few arrests. There were those who were captured to be sure, but they were never held long. Any witnesses that would dare testify against a member of the DS, would quickly find themselves in very hot water. As it was, only one serious arrest was made. The convict eventually got off on bail, and the witness vanished entirely.

One day, they made their most daring heist yet, an old fashioned bank hit. Unfortunately, it also turned out to be their greatest mistake. In this day and age, bank robberies are almost impossible. Security is incredibly tight, with armed guards, titanium vaults, and security cameras everywhere. It wasn't a simple task to carry out. You couldn't just deactivate the main power grid and knock open the vaults with explosives, each door and camera set had an individual power supply, and the mainframe was in a central room behind several layers of steel. And so, when a minivan pulled up to the back door, and several men leapt out, the police had already been alerted.

Realizing that they had blown stealth, the men had donned hooded sweatshirts and loaded up with automatic rifles. Therein lay their mistake. According to police protocol, the use of heavy weapons warranted the use of Special Forces and new tactics. The police showed up _en masse. _

It had resulted in a brief but vicious firefight,and casualties had resulted on both sides. The terror cell had retreated, beaten and humiliated, over a third of their number either dead or captured. They had gone underground, seemingly disappearing from the earth's face.

Their old base of operations had been raided, but nothing was found--nothing, except for a cache of high explosives and a tripwire. Their wanted level skyrocketed.

Shortly though, rumors began to circulate again. Everything about the group was a news item, and police encouraged any tips or information leading to their capture, even going so far to post an insignificant reward. The Deviant Storm enjoyed more popularity then they had when they were known.

A year passed.

The Dying Town finally up and died, a massive fire sparked by a gang war gutted most of the area. Even amidst the flames, the warring factions continued their crusade, and emergency workers feared for their lives. They let the town burn, and many lives were lost. Somehow though, the story stayed off the news. It was regarded as a tragic accident, an awful experiment not to be repeated. The authorities claimed that they would never again allow any area to reach such a state of disrepair. It vanished from the records, and all of it was swept under the rug, the case entirely closed...

But only a fool turns their back on a loaded weapon.


End file.
